What Had Happened

I have had readers and friends ask me to write a chapter on what happened after Memphis's death, so here you go. Enjoy Zev's and Aubrie's messed-upness.

The sun had begun its slow descent over the skyline, casting an amber glow across the towering buildings of Los Angeles. Zev adjusted the collar of his jacket as he stepped out of the elevator and into the high-rise corridor. The hallway was lined with expensive art, each piece perfectly aligned, and the faint scent of designer perfume lingered in the air. This was the kind of place Aubrie would call home—a pristine, sprawling condo in the heart of the city, funded by her CEO father's seemingly endless wealth.

He reached her door and knocked twice, then waited. Aubrie opened the door a moment later, dressed in a sleek, fitted blouse and designer jeans that looked effortlessly chic, as always. Her eyes flashed with a mix of excitement and something darker as she motioned him inside.

"Finally," she murmured, stepping aside to let him in. "I was starting to think you wouldn't come."

Zev offered a slight smirk, running a hand through his hair as he entered. "Wouldn't miss this for the world. Besides," he glanced at her, his voice dropping to a whisper, "we need to make sure everything goes according to plan."

Aubrie nodded, closing the door behind him. The condo was as impeccable as she was, every piece of furniture positioned just so, each surface gleaming. She was always meticulous, a trait that had driven Memphis crazy during their relationship. Zev couldn't help but think how fitting it was that she'd be involved in something like this—a clean, precise plan to cut Memphis out of their lives for good.

They moved to the living room, where Aubrie had poured two glasses of red wine. She handed one to Zev, her gaze lingering as she studied him. "You're sure you can go through with it? I know you and Memphis were… close."

"Were being the key word," Zev replied, his voice cold. He took a sip of the wine, feeling the familiar bite of bitterness on his tongue. "This has to happen. She's standing in the way, and frankly, she's been making things too easy for herself, hogging all the spotlight."

Aubrie's lips curved into a smile, a hint of satisfaction flashing in her eyes. "Exactly. Besides, if she's out of the way, I won't have to watch her take credit for every little victory, especially when we both know she's nothing without you."

Zev's eyes darkened, his expression hardening. He'd spent years in Memphis's shadow, watching her rise through the gaming ranks, the top assassin-class player in the world of VR MMORPGs. Yet, somehow, her success had only served to make him feel more invisible. Aubrie had been the one to plant the seeds of resentment, whispering in his ear about how Memphis didn't deserve the admiration she received, how she only got where she was because of people like him, her "loyal support."

And now, they'd finally reached a breaking point. Memphis had to be removed.

They discussed the plan one final time, their voices low as they went over every detail. Aubrie's father, a powerful figure with deep connections, had ensured that the evidence would be handled carefully, making sure it wouldn't come back to either of them. They'd even arranged for someone else to take the fall—someone easily manipulated, whose life would be shattered in Memphis's place.

Aubrie's lips curved into a twisted smile. "So, after tonight… it's over. She'll be gone."

Zev nodded, feeling a strange sense of detachment. "Exactly. No one will suspect us."

Later that evening, Zev arrived at Memphis's condo. The penthouse was a stunning space, its walls lined with floor-to-ceiling windows offering an expansive view of the city. Memphis was lounging on the plush leather sofa, her feet propped up as she scrolled through her phone, clearly expecting nothing out of the ordinary.

When Zev entered, she looked up, her face breaking into a genuine smile. "Hey, you made it. I thought you were busy tonight."

He forced a smile in return, hiding the contempt that boiled just beneath the surface. "Change of plans. Thought I'd swing by with something you might like."

From his bag, he pulled out a bottle of strawberry rose wine—her favorite. She laughed, delighted, and waved him over to the couch. He poured her a glass, his mind whirring through every step of the plan, rehearsing it like a script. He knew exactly what to say, what to do, how to guide the conversation naturally.

As they chatted, their usual camaraderie filled the air, masking the bitter undercurrent that Zev felt with every passing second. He watched as Memphis took a sip, her expression relaxed, completely unsuspecting. When she set her glass down, he took a subtle step back, glancing at his phone as it buzzed with a message from Aubrie.

Aubrie: Everything's set.

A short while later, Memphis's eyelids began to droop, her breaths growing shallow as the poison—Aubrie's "special touch"—started taking effect. She tried to say something, a flicker of confusion in her eyes, but her voice faltered. Her fingers gripped the edge of the sofa, but she couldn't keep her balance. Zev watched as her face registered fear, realization slowly dawning on her as she struggled for breath.

"Zev…" she gasped, her voice barely a whisper.

He stepped back, keeping his expression cold and unmoved as he dialed Aubrie's number. "It's done," he said, his tone flat, his gaze never leaving Memphis as her eyes began to glaze over.

"Good," Aubrie's voice purred from the other end of the line. "Did anyone see you?"

"No. And I've left the glass and fingerprints just as we discussed," he replied.

Aubrie's laugh was soft, almost victorious. "Perfect. You're sure everything's in place?"

"Yeah. I'll be gone before anyone realizes what happened," Zev replied, his voice barely a whisper.

He watched as Memphis's movements grew weaker, her body collapsing onto the sofa. Her breaths became shallow, her eyes staring blankly at him, the betrayal clear even as the last light faded from them.

Hours later, Zev and Aubrie's plan continued to unfold flawlessly. They had orchestrated every detail, ensuring Memphis's death would look like an accident, and they'd manipulated a vulnerable person to unwittingly take the fall.

A neighbor—a young woman Memphis had been friends with but who had recently become "emotionally unstable"—was the perfect scapegoat. Aubrie had already planted enough evidence in her apartment to suggest a twisted obsession with Memphis, making it easy to frame her for the crime.

A few well-placed calls ensured that the authorities' suspicions would be misdirected, and Aubrie's father's influence saw to it that any loose ends would be quickly tied up. They erased their tracks with meticulous precision, leaving no trace of their involvement.

In the end, the police concluded that Memphis's friend had poisoned her in a fit of jealousy. The media latched onto the narrative, painting it as a tragic story of obsession turned fatal.

A week later, Aubrie and Zev sat in her condo, celebrating with a toast. Memphis was gone, their plan had gone off without a hitch, and the world would never know the truth. Aubrie swirled her glass of wine, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she looked over at Zev.

"To a new beginning," she said, raising her glass.

Zev clinked his glass against hers, but a flicker of something dark passed over his face. As he took a sip, he wondered, for just a moment, if they'd ever truly be free from the shadows of what they'd done. But Aubrie's laughter broke through his thoughts, and he pushed the feeling aside.

Memphis was gone, her light extinguished by those she had once called friends. The world would move on, none the wiser.

But, in the depths of Aincrad, Memphis—now reborn as Strawberry—was very much alive, her heart steeled with vengeance. And one day, she would make sure Zev and Aubrie felt every ounce of the pain they'd inflicted.

________________________________________________________________________________________________

The scapegoat Aubrie and Zev chose for Memphis's murder was carefully selected—a young woman named Lila Hart, a former friend and neighbor of Memphis. Lila was quiet, somewhat reclusive, and had always kept to herself, though Memphis had tried to include her in small gatherings and friendly conversations. Despite her gentle nature, or perhaps because of it, Lila had struggled with bouts of depression and anxiety that often left her isolated and overlooked. Memphis had seen herself as somewhat of a mentor to Lila, encouraging her to step out of her shell, even inviting her over to watch her practice VR tournaments and train.

Lila's introversion and sensitivity had, in recent months, turned into something darker, something Aubrie and Zev knew they could exploit. Life had not been kind to Lila; she had lost her job at a local cafe and, unable to keep up with rent, was on the verge of eviction. Feeling abandoned and overwhelmed, Lila had latched onto the one stable presence she thought she had—Memphis. Lila saw Memphis as a beacon, someone who embodied everything she wished she could be: confident, skilled, admired. It wasn't an obsession, but it was a fragile, delicate connection that Lila held onto like a lifeline.

Aubrie saw Lila as the perfect scapegoat—someone vulnerable, isolated, and easy to manipulate. She took the opportunity to plant seeds that would make Lila seem dangerous, subtly warping the girl's quiet admiration into something twisted in the eyes of others.

Aubrie began her manipulations months before Memphis's death, taking small, calculated actions to build a narrative of obsession around Lila. She planted hints in Memphis's home that would point back to Lila, like a small trinket that Lila had once admired during one of her rare visits—a worn, vintage bracelet that Memphis kept on a shelf. Aubrie "borrowed" it, leaving it in Lila's apartment, where it would later be discovered by the police as part of a fabricated shrine of obsession.

Aubrie went further, creating a trail of falsified evidence that would suggest an unstable, unrequited love. She had access to a spare key to Memphis's condo, and used it to leave subtle marks in the apartment that would implicate Lila—a stray piece of her clothing, a notebook with sketches and notes in a handwriting eerily similar to Lila's, and, most damningly, a half-written letter Aubrie forged, addressing Memphis in a way that seemed deeply possessive and slightly unhinged. It expressed "love" and "devotion" in a way Lila never would, but it created a paper trail that would be impossible to explain away.

Aubrie and Zev also took it upon themselves to create digital evidence. Aubrie, with the help of her tech-savvy friends, spoofed text messages from Lila's phone number to Memphis's. These messages were cryptic, suggesting an escalating jealousy and a sense of entitlement over Memphis's attention. Lines like, "You don't deserve this life," and "I'm the only one who understands you" were sent sporadically, adding weight to the idea that Lila had become fixated on Memphis.

Aubrie carefully timed these messages, making sure they would be discovered only after Memphis's death. She knew the police would analyze phone records, and by adding these texts to the narrative, she painted Lila as a ticking time bomb. To anyone on the outside, it would look like Memphis had been targeted by a disturbed admirer.

In the days leading up to Memphis's murder, Aubrie went even further, staging a break-in at Memphis's condo that she intended to look like Lila's doing. She broke a small vase in the entryway, made it seem like someone had forced entry, and left Lila's old scarf—something Lila had left at a gathering months ago—near Memphis's door. When Memphis came home and noticed the oddities, she had assumed it was nothing more than a simple accident, perhaps that she'd knocked over the vase herself in haste. But for Aubrie, it was another breadcrumb, another piece of a calculated narrative to frame Lila.

To further entrap Lila, Aubrie began feeding her subtle comments, pretending to be concerned about Memphis's influence on her. During rare encounters, Aubrie would tell Lila, "You know, Memphis isn't the friend you think she is," or "You'd be better off focusing on yourself. People like Memphis don't understand people like us." These small, manipulative remarks served to alienate Lila, making her feel even more isolated, painting the idea that Memphis herself had betrayed her, even though it was all a lie.

When the police investigated Memphis's death, they quickly turned their attention to Lila. The evidence seemed undeniable—her belongings in Memphis's condo, the fake messages, the supposed obsession. Lila, already emotionally frail, was unable to defend herself against the onslaught of accusations. She stammered through the police interrogation, unable to form coherent responses, and her mental state only served to confirm their suspicions.

The media spun the story into a tragic tale of an "obsessive friend" who had become possessive and resentful. They plastered Lila's face on news channels, painting her as a deranged admirer who had crossed a line in a fit of jealousy. The public devoured the story, and Aubrie and Zev watched as Lila became a scapegoat, her life shattered in a whirlwind of accusations, judgment, and false evidence.

Aubrie and Zev's names were never connected to the case. The authorities, satisfied with their airtight narrative, closed the case with Lila as the guilty party. Aubrie's father made sure no further investigation would be pursued, greasing palms where necessary to keep his daughter's secret safe.

Lila, once a quiet, harmless young woman, had been effectively erased, her life left in tatters as she was sentenced for a crime she had not committed, condemned to live with a reputation that was crafted by two people she'd barely known.

What would happen if Lila's big sister just so happened to be the daughter of a billionaire-dollar rival company to Aubrie's father... with very pretty violet eyes?